The Unknown History and The Magical Future

Very early in the war Discord having discovered the homeland of the Malhornesi, went to the Barren Lands and committed genocide upon nearly their entire race. He kept one alive though, the one whom he could not overcome, the oldest of the race of Malhornesi, Metus. Having met Metus again he appointed him as general of his armies and allowed him to command his troops. Metus then realized something, his sister had be taken, not killed, for he joined with Discord, while secretly planning to free his sister from the prison that was Discord.

Though unaware of Metus's plan, Discord learned over time that Metus must be controlled, being of equal power to the Lord of Chaos himself he posed somewhat of a threat. Discord also learned to hate and despise Metus over time for his cruelty and malice.

The War

The fifty-fifth regiment: The fifty-fifth regiment of the Army of the Alicorn Sisters charged the enemy. On the opposing side stood dragons, diamond dogs, changelings, windegos, draconequus, hydras, mantacores, and many other creatures of Chaos. As the Malhornesi charged, several of them were sucked into the ground by roots, and live stones, others, were smashed by launched boulders, and fireballs, yet others still ran heads aimed towards the enemy. The first of the Malhornesi to reach the opposing force's lines either ran their horns through and tore flesh, or they halted launching waves of magic towards their foes. The waves poured over the creatures and while the diamond dogs all fell melting away into puddles, the dragons stood halted as their insides froze, coated in ice, and they choked. The few draconequus in the battle in retaliation began to hack, slash, and slaughter the first line of the offense.

Meanwhile, fueled with the havoc and disagreement caused by the battle, the windegos began storm clouds and great hurricanes. The serpentine hydras reared their heads as they began to pick and strike at their pony prey. Parasprites began to erupt from the hard dirt ground, engulfing several ponies at a time. Now, the rest of the regiment had begun to arrive. The slaughter had begun. As the sacred soldiers forced onward the dark forces of chaos began to diminish, and crumble. Their ranks broke, some fell out of line and randomly attacked in every direction, while others who had seen the battle was lost tried to flee, some in success. The battle slowly ceased, losses decreasing on the side of Order, with massacres appearing on the side of Chaos. Eventually the last changeling faded into the ground becoming a sapling of a rose with black thorns.

Hours after the battle there was a great fire while the bodies of the enemies burned and blackened. Officers mourned the death of their soldiers, and in turn the soldiers mourned the loss of their comrades, and friends. The black clouds of smoke billowed up into the night sky, and a bolt of red lightning pierced the smog and struck the ground in front of the grand flame. The bright light was gone and standing on the scorched earth was a unicorn with skin as red as blood; his stripes were of the color of a black corruption, his eyes were the color of fear itself, he was crowned with not one but three black spears atop his head, and the flowing mane he possessed was as bright and hot as fire. One of the greatest creatures in history stood before the warriors, shining with an aura of shadow and danger. He was spoken of in legends and curses, and was said to have a tongue of manipulation and temptation like no other. His booming voice was said to have shook mountains, and toppled cities, and his hooves made earthquakes with every step. They said that he feasted on dreams, and turned them to darkness and all things obscene. The legends told of his ability to bend your mind and crush your soul. He was infamous; he would kill without mercy, act without conscience, and thrive off greed itself. Some would argue that his heart was of a cold, black stone, but others knew better, for they knew this pony was legendary not only for his power, and malice, but also for his lack of heart. He was Metus: the embodiment of evil.

All these stories, legends, and prophecies, were true, and as he stepped forward the land shook with a terrible force, and he scanned his subjects. He could sense their fear, their need to run and never look back, he loved it! He thrived in their fears, and temptation, and he eventually found his target, a unicorn whose beauty, and awe was unmistakable. Her caramel coat laid on the perfect curves of her body, which were only complimented by the toned muscles. Her mane was a light brown shade and tied in a long ponytail that ran down her neck. For like he, she was an ancient one, one of the first generation Malhornesi. He approached her. He stood before her waiting for the inevitable, for he stood over Lionheart, the pony of bravery and courage. She began to stand up and soon looked into the eyes of the overjoyed pony. He was merry with the idea he would once again receive a chance to demonstrate his dominance and power. Lionheart's body grew marvelously bright with the all too familiar aura and the smell of brimstone filled Metus's nostrils. The golden lashes of magic exploded outward creating a circle of golden sparkles and light around the two Malhornesi. The long ropes recoiled wrapping themselves around Lionheart's horn and with a small step forward the strings of light wrapped themselves around another target: Metus. The ropes coiled around his joints, neck, and horn.

The ropes began to sink into Metus's skin; realizing her mistake Lionheart tried to step backwards and rip her magical ropes free. But she was met with another force she was pulled back and brought muzzle to muzzle with Metus and for the first time in her life she felt...scared. Metus leaned forward and placed his lips on Lionheart's. And it was over.

The light faded and the remaining warriors looked up to see the Malhornesi of darkness standing alone with the last bit of light disappearing into his mouth. He raised his forelegs and as he brought them down every living creature that had been within a hundred mile radius of him was obliterated.

The forty-fourth regiment: The fiery maned Malhornesi led the assault on the forty-fourth regiment's campsite. Screams and cries could be heard all round him as he ran through the tents leading wave after wave of troops past waking, dying ponies. For every surface that grazed his searing mane burst into bright flames, and plumes of smoke. He raced, slamming his hooves against the ground causing deafening clops and terrible tremors, to the larger black tent at the far end of the sleeping quarters. The satanic pony halted before the large black tent, and the horns atop his head became clouded with a shadowy aura. The tent flaked into pieces and they drifted off in the night wind. Standing in front of the sovereign ruler of darkness, was not one but eight second generation Malhornesi. The horses stood in a horizontal line facing their enemy. From left to right each pony lowered their spiral horn towards their foe.

Each horn glowed a different neon colored hue, and eight streams of magical energy flew towards Metus. As the beams closed in on the malicious pony they all forged together, becoming one long, shining force. The magic engulfed the dark general and his eyes glared with a yellow power; Metus's forelegs slowly began to rise while still being bombarded with the waves of magical energy. The grand pony was now standing solely only his hind legs, the stunned Malhornesi's waves of magic slowly disappeared while they looked up into the night sky. Above them were two massive hooves shaped from fire, smoke, and dark magic. Only half a second behind, the monstrous hooves followed the exact same movements as Metus's hooves. As he brought his hooves down to the ground the gigantic hooves hovering in space came down as well, crushing the eight Malhornesi.

The forty-fourth regiment fell. They were attacked in the dead of night; they were unsuspecting, half asleep, and greatly outnumbered. They were lucky still; other divisions and squads were captured alive and collected by Metus. He would them take the ponies back to his home where he would then torture and manipulate them for years to gain his own pleasure.

The twenty-second, fifty-first, and ninety-eighth regiments: The four first generation Malhornesi stood across from the lord of shadow and each had tears rolling down their face. The bodies of all the ponies in their regiments were scattered around in pools of blood and flesh.

"DEMON!" The first yelled before charging Metus. He lowered his head and as he ran his horn glowed with a blinding, lime light. When he had reached the red creature of hate he launched himself into the air flying straight at him. Metus lifted his right foreleg and with a swing to the right his hoof collided with the speeding pony's face. The backhand blow smashed the Malhornesi off course and he spiraled off in the other direction. As he sped off to the side, the place where the malicious pony’s hoof had met his face started to burn. His entire body turned red and hot. The first generation Malhornesi began to flake away into smoldering ashes as he fell. Instead of his body hitting the ground, piles of ash scattered across the battlefield in the wind. The second first generation pony followed by the third first generation Malhornesi charged.

The first pony arrived in front of Metus and raised his front left hoof to punch him. His hoof hit Metus with all the force he could muster. Instead of stumbling back or showing any signs of fatigue he remained still and laughed in his handsomely sinister tone. The first generation Malhornesi withdrew taking several steps backwards. His hoof felt as though it had hit a block of hard, searing hot steel. The pony that charged a couple second behind him drove himself directly at the pony of rancor. Metus lowered his head until his nose touched the ground. Then, will a fast upward thrust he shoved his three horns into the charging pony’s chest, and he continued to raise his head bringing the stabbed Malhornesi with it. He then brought his head back in a circular motion and brought his head back down.  He stopped halfway through this motion and the pony that had been stuck on his horns was shot free. As he hit the ground his body and soul were crushed and exploded into black smoke. The pony of darkness walked through the smoke and raised both his forelegs. He extended them forward with full force and they connected with the Malhornesi still shocked from the pain in his hoof and the sight of seeing his friend be demolished. What looked like a sonic rainboom of black, surged outward with the collision. The wave of dark magic shot out into the sky as well as leaving a large gash in the ground beneath them.

The lone opponent of the lord of temptation stood stock still in fear and panic. Her heart raced in her chest as he approached her. He stopped be for and his horn became shrouded in darkness. He brought his horn toward and touched hers, sucking her magic and soul from her body.